


Morning Dew

by ashrose98



Series: I Watch You On The Red Horizon [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Niall is actually a tidy lad, Prologue, basically a backstory, escaping, late night truths, mentions of abuse, to how lou and hazza meet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 18:07:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4971079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashrose98/pseuds/ashrose98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the short 1 chapter prologue to my fanfiction "I watch you on the red horizon". </p>
<p>I hope you enjoy it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Dew

I'm standing as the door opens, shaking in the dim light that floods out. 

"Harry? What are you doing here.." Niall squints at me, blue eyes darkening as he notices the trembling. "I haven't seen you in so long mate, come in." He pulls the door farther, and steps to the side, revealing the his tidy living room. I nod my appreciation and walk in, his hand brought up to touch my back. I flinch. 

"Why ya here?" His thick Irish accent pulls me from the pain radiating from my back, and I run my fingers through my hair before sitting down on his cream coloured couch. 

"Jayden." I sigh, my voice nearly monotonous except it cracks, the dirty smudged fingerprints that he left on my glass body feel revealed. I flinch recognizing the pain in my voice.

"Ya not gettin' along?" His eyebrows are drawn upwards in question. He leans forward in the seat across from me, hands gripping each other so tightly I can see his veins like the roots of trees.

I swallow past the bricks that line the inside of my throat, "We aren't 'getting along'. Not in the least.." I mumble slowly, drawing out each word, calculating each step I take towards telling him the truth. 

His eyes narrow, "You wanna stay here for a bit?"

I shake my head roughly, "No. I have to go back."

"Why?" His voice lifts higher then before. The answer is so obvious to me: if I don't come back he'll hurt me. Hell, I don't know why I'm here.

"Ya know, don't want to bother you." I lie through my teeth and my stomach knots up as Niall rolls his eyes. He can see through your weak lies, Harry.

"Mate, what the bloody hell. You don't bother me, not in the bit."

"I just don't want to be a bother, Niall." I shrug sheepishly, and look down at my hands that are clinging too tightly to my jeans, nails pressed into my skin. 

"You aren't a bother. Harry, obviously there is something wrong," He bites his bottom lip, cautiously speaking again, leaning forward, "Something you're not telling me." 

I shake my head too quickly, the memories black and blue in the way they are hurting me, all the way down my spine, past the marks he pressed into my skin just four hours before. 

But he doesn't say anything else, he doesn't pursue an answer. He sits there, letting his question float in the air like smoke: visible, and you try to ignore the way it makes your vision blurry, your mind unfocused. The way it chokes you.

That is what is most awkward, the most concerning part, this isn't what Niall would do normally. He would press me and prod me until I confessed to a small truth. But he's quiet, watching me. I feel my face crumple underneath the weight of trying to keep up this charade. 

"Yeah," I pause, digging my nails deeper into my palms, leaving crescent moon dents along palm lines, "there's something wrong." 

"Something wrong with me." I bite the inside of my cheek, breathing deeply in and out, exhaling lies, inhaling truths I've been denying, "He hurts me and there must be something wrong with me. I," my voice cracks, I swallow past the pain, "I don't know why else he would hurt me like this.." I look at Niall through tear stained vision, "I am obviously a mistake. A grape juice stain on his white linen sheets."

"Harry," He breathes out slowly, and I can nearly taste the Guinness that drifts towards me from his breath, "You are not a mistake. There is nothing wrong with you mate, there's something wrong with him. Not you." 

I shake my head, the pain creeping through my spine, making its' way to my shoulder blades. 

He gets up, pressing his hands on both of my shoulders, pushing me back against the back of the couch. "Harry, I fuckin' mean it. You are not the problem. You are certainty not a mistake. He," Niall's voice gets more firm as he continues, "is the problem. He is the mistake. He is wrong to treat you like this."

He pauses, watching my face contort into expressions of pain as the wounds on my back are under pressure.

He lets go.

"Did he hurt you? Your back?" He steps away from me, and I can see his hands tremble. 

I watch, silent, struggling to breathe through the smoke, through the bricks lining my throat. I nod, slowly- once, twice, and then three times. His face looks crest-fallen in shock. 

"Let's clean you up. And you're staying here tonight." His voice is as firm as his hands are as they grip my wrist and tug me off the couch. 

He flicks on the light switch and rummages around for his aid kit as I peel off the black shirt I was wearing. I bite the inside of my cheek stifling the noise nearly erupting from my mouth as my skin reacts as though there was a fire racing along it. 

I hear a gasp of shock from behind me, and I turn around, offering a weak smile, as flimsy as the band-aid that he holds in his hand. 

"Harry..." He murmurs softly, "That- it's bad.." His hand drops down to his side, suddenly stiff. He blinks rapidly, as if it'll go away if he closes and opens his eyes fast enough. And I know that doesn't work- I tried when I would look in the mirror crying. 

No proper words form on the tip of my tongue so I swallow roughly and shrug. 

"Maybe, erm," He glances around the bathroom fanatically, "take a shower, I'll help to clean the cuts. Then we'll deal with it from there." 

I nod slowly, and he closes the door behind him as he leaves. I take a shower, easing myself slowly to stand with my chest facing the shower head. I scrub shampoo and conditioner into my hair, and wash it out halfheartedly, only caring when it threatens my eyes or my sensitive back. 

I bite my lips pulling a white towel around my waist as I step out of the shower. I slip my boxers back on, nervously watching my reflection before I have the nerves to call Niall's name. Jayden, he used to wait for me to take a shower, and once he heard the water stop he'd walk in on me naked, kissing me til I was half hard, and then spreading my legs open without my consent. I'd feel so dirty afterwards that I'd take another shower and scrub my skin raw. 

I still feel dirty.

~~~

I eventually slip into sleep on Niall's couch. The last thing I could see was Niall looking at me from his bedroom door, phone to his ear as he murmured to whoever was on the other side, "It's Harry, we need to get him away from Jay..".


End file.
